


A Girl And Her Dog

by MotleyMoose



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, Gore, Language, Mostly Fluff, slight angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-10
Updated: 2017-01-10
Packaged: 2018-09-16 16:05:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9279230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MotleyMoose/pseuds/MotleyMoose
Summary: Raising a Teenager is no easy task.And when that teen just happens to be The Darkness, things can get pretty interesting.





	

There were few things in this life that Crowley loved: a well-tailored suit; a finely aged brandy; and his massive hell hounds. Most of the time, these things mixed well; he could warm his feet on one of his beloved pets while lounging in a clean-cut pinstripe ensemble and sipping his favorite amber-colored drink. Today just happened to be one of those times everything went figuratively to hell.

Things were not going quite to plan as soon as Amara began studying under him. Granted, she was the most powerful being in the Universe albeit God himself, but her temper tantrums and overall mental acuity were stuck somewhere around a pouty tween who had been grounded from the school dance. He was used to her outbursts, but the discarded meatsuits that had once contained some of his more loyal demon minions were starting to annoy him. It had taken him a long time, dammit, to create his army of followers, and he'd be blessed if she wasn't going to eat all of them in one sitting.

"A hobby," he grumbled, swirling his snifter of brandy before downing the liquid in one swift gulp. "That's what she needs, a little bit of something to take her mind off of consuming all of my bloody servants!"

The hell hound at his feet harrumphed before rolling over, head lolling and tongue out, begging for a belly rub.

Crowley looked at the beast - all muscles and darkness and burning with hellfire from within - and smirked. Yes, what Amara needed was exercise, and he had the perfect plan.  
....  
Amara had just finished up with her new nanny (a whiny sort of demon that put up little resistance to her feeding) when there was a knock at the door. She was surprised to find Crowley, scruffy beard, blood red tie, and all, filling the doorway.

"What do you want?" She asked in what she hoped was her snarkiest voice.

Crowley grinned wickedly at her, gesturing at the lifeless nanny husk slumped against the divan. "I thought, since you've just had a light snack, you'd like a little activity." Behind him came a snorting whine; a dark, looming shape panted quietly in Crowley's shadow.

"Wha - did you bring me a dog?" Amara peered curiously around Crowley's charcoal colored pant leg, meeting the brutish animal's red eyed gaze.

"A hell hound, my dear. The finest I've ever bred." With a click of his tongue, Crowley called the hound forward. Flames poured lazily out of its gaping maw as it obediently stepped towards Amara, stubby tail in a low wag.

Squealing with glee, the young girl stooped to greet the magnificent creature. "Hello, cutie," she smiled, ruffling the top of its wide head. "What's its name?" She looked up at him with pure, unadulterated joy.

"Cujo." He patted the hell hound's back. "He'll be your guard and your companion. You'll have full responsibility for his care. That means walks, feedings, and et cetera." Crowley glanced back at the nanny meatsuit. "And no more before-dinner snacks. You'll ruin your appetite."

Shaking his head in disdain, he turned and walked out of her room. Two lower order demons appeared and, with a nod from Crowley, entered and removed the spent nanny.

Amara stared after them, hardly containing her delight. Finally, something to do other than tormenting the servants! She plopped herself on the floor in front of the massive demon dog, regarding it with fierce admiration. The creature looked down at her, sniffed approvingly, and flopped on its back for a belly rub. Amara absentmindedly scratched Cujo's ribs while she stared off into space, daydreaming about what sort of things they could get away with.  
.....  
It had been a few weeks since Crowley had brought Cujo to her. Amara had grown considerably, now the approximate size and shape of an eleven year old. Her appetite for demons had grown in leaps and bounds since her recent growth spurt, making it harder for Crowley to keep her satisfied without losing his much needed troops.

Amara had taken to evening strolls with Cujo since Crowley's latest injunction (no more devouring of high-ranking demons; she was relegated to feeding from the lowest castes that, although plentiful, weren't as satisfying). On these nightly walks, she and her hell hound wandered the nearest suburb, silently feasting on whatever unfortunate soul happened to cross their path. Even though a soulless human was technically still living, it was easier for Cujo to finish the job, and it made Amara's responsibilities that much lighter having him just eat the pitiful beings.

This particular evening had turned up nothing. They followed the usual trek around the subdivisions, through the straggle of trees separating a pair of cul-de-sacs, and over a short and pointless bridge spanning a shallow drainage ditch. The twilight air was crisp and cool with a whisper of leaves scuttling the asphalt before them. Twinkling orangish lights, large grinning pumpkins, and wispy strands of cotton webbing decorated the indistinguishably similar houses, casting a surreal feel to the darkening street.

"What is this, Cujo?" Amara paused at a half buried skeleton that looked like it was frozen in the process of digging itself out of a shallow grave. "Why all of this weird frippery?" She indicated to a house with several plastic grave markers in the front garden and a slumping scarecrow guarding the porch. "Are they warding against something?"

The demon dog coughed, shooting a small stream of hellfire from its nostrils, before cocking its head at her and sighing.

"You're right, it's time to pay a visit to Crowley. He should know what's going on."  
......  
The meeting was anything but pleasant. First, Crowley was amused that Amara wanted to learn about the humans that she so desperately loathed. Amusement soon turned to anger, however, when he learned what exactly the duo had been doing on their nightly ambles. "You do not fucking feed where I work!" was the last thing she heard as she dashed from his den, her own fury bubbling up at the injustice of being treated like a child.

Returning to her room in a huff, Amara curled herself against her snoozing infernal beast. Warmth from the fire and brimstone burning within it had a calming affect on her wrath. Gradually, the rhythmic thrum of the monster pooch's guttural snores gently lulled Amara into unconsciousness.  
..........  
Cujo's belly gave a deafening rumble, jerking Amara from her fathomless reverie. Straightening her cramped legs, she got up, careful not to wake the sleeping hell mutt. Striding to the small desk under the window, she began pulling out drawers, searching for materials to create her first-ever Halloween costume. An old eraser stub, some bent paper clips, and a petrified jar of rubber cement were her rewards. Growling in frustration, she stomped to the door, nearly ripping it off the hinges in her ire and startling the pair of sentries sitting across the hall.

"I need art supplies," she seethed, glaring at the trembling demons hungrily. "And I need them now."

The taller of the two jumped up, gave a slight bow, and rushed off down the hallway. The other, a muscular man with a thinning pate, shook uncontrollably under her unwavering gaze. She gave him a baleful smirk as she licked her lips. Relishing his terrified shriek, she disappeared back into her room and slammed the door.

All of the hubbub had stirred Cujo from his slumbers. The hell hound stretched as it stood, a wide yawn escaping from its impossibly deep and fiery maw.

"Guess what, Cujo? We're celebrating Halloween." Amara had decided if she were going to be treated like a child, she might as well get some fun out of it. With the advent of the autumn holiday approaching, what better way to annoy the crap out of Crowley while simultaneously frightening the demons out of their meatsuits than to embrace the human celebration? She smiled to herself as she busied about her room, tossing aside garments and upending drawers in search of costume accessories.

A sharp rap announced the arrival of the taller guard bearing crafts. The woman unloaded her cargo on the small desk before backing hastily out of the room. Amara immediately pounced on the packages, reveling in the novelty of it. Immediately, she set to work, conscripting her blissfully oblivious devil pup into service.

"For the greater good," she sniggered derisively.  
.......  
It's far too quiet in this house, Crowley mused to himself as he paced the small library-turned-smoking parlor. Amara had been cooped up for days in her room, only appearing when the hell hound needed a walk. He had had a fleeting bout of guilt, but that soon dissolved when he was interrupted by one of his generals relaying that she was still consuming his work staff.

"That cheeky little bint," he growled, tossing his empty snifter at the wiry demon before storming from the room. If she thought she could get away with making chow of his devoted attendants, she had another thing coming.  
.........  
Amara knew Crowley was coming. The now-almost-15 year old had purposefully attacked and eaten at least a half dozen of Crowley's toughest goons. She'd also left their vessels fairly destroyed, making it impossible for another demon to inhabit it. She could feel his anger permeating the hallway before he even turned the corner.

Composing herself, she lounged casually against Cujo's enormous flank with a book propped upon her bent knee. She could hear the King of Hell snarling at the two demons patrolling the other side of the doorway. Hunkering herself down into the crook of her demon mutt's belly, she furiously pretended not to hear the commotion.  
........  
Entering the corridor, Crowley had found the two demons he had entrusted to play watchmen at Amara's door dozing in their chairs. He received a little bit of pleasure barking orders at them, making them jump almost completely out of their skins. If he was going to pay them, they better well do their damn jobs or they'd be the next on Amara's menu, he seethed internally. Brushing off their apologies and vows of repentance, he grabbed the doorknob and gave it a yank.

BOOM

Crowley was blown off his feet and into the adjacent wall before sliding down into a heap on the carpet. Dust and debris shimmered around him as he tried to regain composer. A shadow fell across his legs as he propped himself up against an overturned chair.

Amara stood in the door jamb with Cujo by her side, silhouetted against a haze of purplish colored smoke and shiny floating particles. A malevolent smile played at her lips.

Still dazed, Crowley looked up at her quizzically, fighting to find words to describe his ire.

After a few minutes, he was finally able to croak out a few words.

"Why is there so much glitter?"

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Stephen King's Cujo


End file.
